


1863, December

by Shoujothoughts



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Angst, Crush, F/M, Flowers, Group Meals, Heisuke and The Old Dudes, Heisuke gets punched in the face, Itou is trouble, Laughter, Laundry, No Beta, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Crush, Platonic to Romantic, Rain, Relationship Evolution, Romance, She thinks!! He's beautiful!! ?? O:, Souji is Souji, Sounds like a band name, but!!, for now, friendships between men, it's cannon!!, let men feel 2020, monthly installments over the course of a four year period, no underage romantic relationships, soooo~~, story telling, suds in the bucket and the clothes hanging out on the liiiinnnneee~, there had to be angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoujothoughts/pseuds/Shoujothoughts
Summary: Dark eyelashes brush against pale skin. The witness is dressed like a man, but his features appear feminine--hence Sano’s presumption of his youth. There’s nothing masculine about him, and in fact he’s almost lovely. Heisuke swallows hard.Sano chances a glance at his younger friend. Heisuke’s hands are steady, but they’re fisted, and he’s looking at the other boy with something like the regret that Sano feels. Still, Sano thinks there’s more there. He takes a breath.Their nerves are still raw from failed experiments and personnel trials of the past two weeks. For a moment, he wonders what he would have done if it had been him, not Souji, to catch up with Ryunosuke that night.
Relationships: Harada Sanosuke & Friends, Harada Sanosuke & Heisuke Todo, Harada Sanosuke & Shinpachi Nagakura, Harada Sanosuke/Yukimura Chizuru
Comments: 64
Kudos: 83





	1. 1863, December

**1863, December**

He’s still awake when Genzaburo calls him from the hallway. Hijikata has returned from dispatch with Souji and Saito, Gen-san says, and he’s summoning Harada for guard duty. Sano shoots the last of his liquor, sets the cup aside, and stands. Gen-san elaborates as they hustle through the compound, and--even as he comprehends what Hijikata means to do--Sano’s joining Hesiuke in a darkened room, eyes on this unfortunate kid who’s seen the failed ones.

The boy is small--surely not older than fourteen-years-old, and gagged. His wrists are tied. Souji’s a bastard, but he’s good with knots. The kid, unconscious to boot, isn’t going anywhere. Heisuke’s nervous, Sano can tell. His eyes are a little too wide even as he sits agura beside him. Whoever summoned Heisuke must have spoken with him, too, because he doesn’t ask any questions. Harada offers nothing in return.

There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. He knows this kid has seen their most abhorrent secret. Whether or not he’s understood what he’s seen is another matter. Even so, it’s not Sano’s place to intervene before decisions are handed down. He’ll act as commanded--act as necessary--but he hopes the boy’s ill-fated encounter hasn’t landed him a death sentence.

Dark eyelashes brush against pale skin. The witness is dressed like a man, but his features appear feminine--hence Sano’s presumption of his youth. There’s nothing masculine about him, and in fact he’s almost lovely. Heisuke swallows hard.

Sano chances a glance at his younger friend. Heisuke’s hands are steady, but they’re fisted, and he’s looking at the other boy with something like the regret that Sano feels. Still, Sano thinks there’s more there. He takes a breath.

Their nerves are still raw from failed experiments and personnel trials of the past two weeks. For a moment,  he wonders what he would have done if it had been him, not Souji, to catch up with Ryunosuke that night.

Despondency is a luxury they can’t afford; later, in the privacy of his room, he’ll pour another in memory of the assumed dead. Now, he stares into the eye of the storm swirling around a boy--though with every glance he grows warier of that conviction--who’s seen too much. He waits.


	2. 1864, January

**1864, January**

Guarding her creates additional duties. Sano takes the predawn shifts, the eighth through seventh hours being his responsibility. He lounges with his back against the wall, one knee bent and spear resting against his shoulder. Chizuru will not stir until first light, and Sano uses the opportunity to think.

Complacency breeds catastrophe, but the girl has been nothing if not sedate. She leaves her assigned room only to use the facilities and to bathe, always under a respectful guard. Usually these duties fall to Saito who takes watch at dawn and lingers briefly on those days he takes her dinner. 

He imagines the monotony of her existence, and wonders what a girl her age might like to do with her time. He’s no novice to the fairer sex, but his experiences are limited to flirting with stall girls and mingling with the geiko at Shimabara. Would she like a sewing kit? A journal? While they haven’t spoken much, he often sees her gazing out the window as he runs his division through basic sword forms in the yard. Next time he has the opportunity, he decides, he’ll ask her. 

He hears an unexpected rustling of blankets, but he ignores the sound--gazing out over the veranda at the fading stars until he hears a heavy thud, followed by a pained squeak.

He announces himself in haste and opens the door to find her sprawled along the floor; her ankles are tangled in her linens. He stares, and she gasps a tender little gasp before blushing to her roots. He chuckles at the innocent picture as he offers her his hand. 

“I--” Chizuru begins. Her eyes avert. He hauls her to her feet. “I was getting a drink of water from the pitcher, Harada-san.”

She grasps her wrist, arm held against her chest, and he can’t help but realize that she came down awfully hard.

“Are you okay, Chizuru?” he asks, peering into her face.

“Oh! Yes! I’m fine.” Holding her arm closer to herself, she sinks into a bow. “I apologize for disturbing you.”

“Ah now, none of that.” He smiles and shakes his head. “It’s a man’s duty to assist a woman.” He notices she hasn’t released her wrist and gently reaches for her. If possible, she only grows redder as he gently palpates the area. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Harada-san.” She bows again as he releases her. “If anything it is sprain. It will probably feel better by tomorrow.”

He doesn’t question the doctor’s daughter.

“Can I get that water for you?” He crosses the room and pours her a cup from the pitcher before she can object. He presses it into her good hand and steers her toward her mat with a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes are very large, and Harada wonders for the first time if he’s overstepped. 

Soft light begins to bleed through the paper screens and spill across the floor. He bows.

“Good morning, Chizuru,” he says. Two large steps and he’s sliding the door behind him. 

If Saito arrives just in time to see him leave her room, his only censure is a single raised eyebrow and a questioning glance. Sano shakes his head and doesn’t answer.


	3. 1864, February

**1864, Febraury**

_“ It’s like this every time. Sorry for all the ruckus. They’re animals.”_ _  
  
_

_“Not at all. Everyone eating together being lively is really fun.”_

_“You finally smiled.”_

_..._

_“You do realize we’re not gonna do you any harm. You should always smile just like that. It’s cute.”_

_“Okay.”_

* * *

He shouldn’t have punched Heisuke. Objectively, he knows this. He’s scared the girl—as Shinpachi’s pointed out—and left marks on his friend, as well. It wasn’t as though he was angry so much as startled, afraid for her. He acted on impulse because, unless Heisuke’s mouth had shut soon, Chizuru might as well’ve had a blade at her neck. Then where would they be?

_We’re not gonna do you any harm, my ass,_ he thinks. Perhaps he’s resolved that within himself, but will his own convictions stop Souji or Hijikata? The dutiful Saito? Heisuke winces as he kneads his jaw, but Sano doesn’t apologize. He’s panting too hard to do more than grimace as his panic bleeds into something more like resignation.

Behind Shinpachi, Chizuru is shaking. Shin slowly rises out of battle stance, and Sano sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes before he moves to help Heisuke off the floor.

As though the room hasn’t erupted into sudden violence, Souji calmly drinks his tea. Saito has stilled, watching without a word.

“Sorry, Chizuru,” Shin says, resting a hand on her upper arm, “but that’s as much as you’re allowed to know about our inner workings.”

Souji closes his eyes. His cup’s steam wafts against his face. “The Shinsengumi Heisuke mentioned are some pretty pitiful children.”

Sano knows he did right by stopping Heisuke, even if he regrets the execution of the act. He turns to the girl and tips his head in contrition. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says. He means it.

Chizuru blinks rapidly lIke she’s waking from a nightmare. For a moment, he swears she’s about to shake her hands before her pale little face and assure them that everything is fine—so like her—but instead, she hesitates. He blanches. She bows.

“I-I understand, Sano-san.” She doesn’t look at him, and—without fully straightening—turns to her left, continues. “Saito-san, I think I would like to go back to my room now, i-if that’s alright. I… mending...”

That’s enough for Saito. In fluid motion, he stands, sweeping her out the door and down the hallway as she hurriedly makes one final bow to the room at large and thanks them for the meal.

She’s gone.

Souji, the smug bastard, continues to drink his tea. Heisuke mournfully rubs his jaw, and Shinpachi looks at Sano with an expression bordering exasperation.

So much for seeing more of her smile, Sano laments. They’ll be lucky if she willingly leaves her room again. 

Maybe that’s for the best.

_Fuck_.


	4. 1864, March

**1864, March**

Chizuru is often quiet, but when she laughs, it’s rain. She’s joined the captains again for dinner, as has become her custom, and Hijikata steadfastly pretends the girl doesn’t exist. That seems to suit her fine. 

Chizuru isn’t a spectacle. She watches and listens as Heisuke and Shinpachi argue over thefts of food, and she flinches when Souji says something particularly barbaric, but she doesn't say much herself unless spoken to directly.

Sano doesn’t know her well, but he thinks she seems rather sweet.

_Oh, thank you for the tea!_

_Gen-san, could I be of help?_

_P-perhaps Heisuke-kun would like some of my tempura?_

That last one had Hesiuke gaping like a fish. Shinpachi had laughed like a mad man, and Heisuke tackled him before Gen-san put an end to their madness right quick.

Tonight, she’s sitting seiza and sipping her tea with an elegance Sano often associates with--oddly enough--Saito. Sano’s respect for Saito has increased since the girl arrived. Sano is confident that Saito would dispatch Chizuru without hesitation at Hijikata’s command, but he’s equally confident that--excluding execution of a direct order--he’ll continue to accommodate the girl as respectfully as possible. While he cannot know for sure, Sano thinks the Vice-Commander has assigned Saito to be some sort of honor guard given his duties include escorting her to and from her daily ablutions.

Sano’s pulled from musings by recitation. Souji lounges against the wall finishing the dregs of his cup, but now he holds a book.

“ _Honeyed lips are/ the distraction of a man/ Savor victory._ ”

Hijikata freezes. He eyes Souji, and his voice is calm, but he appears only moments away from a Genzaburo-censure worthy tackle of his own. “Where did you get that?”

  
  


“Ai-ya! This? Someone left a book of poetry under the floorboards. This one’s better!" He clears his throat. _“Crickets chirping out/ Romance of our Edo days/and our Edo nights.”_ Hijikata lunges, and the troublemaker dances out of reach.

“Idiot, whose floorboards are you scavenging!? Hand it over!”

Saito scrambles--if anything Saito does can be described in such a way--out of the line of fire, and Hijikata chases Souji toward the corner of the room. 

_“Her 1000 cranes/navigate beneath the clouds/ a whisper in white,"_ Souji chants.

“Now, now, gentlemen,” begins Kondou, hands raised in a placating manner.

Hijikata’s holding Souji by the hatori now, but they both turn abruptly as Chizuru finally erupts. 

Her laughter sounds like raindrops on the roof, flowers blooming from the mouth of spring. “I’m sorry-!” She gasps, still giggling. The room is staring, but she doesn’t seem to realize. If she does, she cannot stop. “I just-- Hi-Hijikata-san! It’s a lovely poem, really, but--Okita-san, you--!!” 

As she laughs, something breaks within the room. Souji smirks. Hijikata practically throws his hands away from the younger man, stalking back toward his cushion. Heisuke’s turning red.

Shinpachi laughs too, one large hand slapping his own thigh, and even Saito...smiles.

Sano thinks she echoes like the monastery bells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the references to two of my other fics? One is easy, but one ??might?? be more difficult.
> 
> Hints:  
> "Iba also thinks so,"  
> and  
> "silken moonlight."
> 
> :)


	5. 1864, April (pt 1)

**1864, April (pt 1)**

She’s outside again. Somewhere between dining with the captains and offering to help Gen-san at every opportunity, Chizuru became the Shinsengumi’s actual page. Genzaburo smiles and calls her a “domestic helper.” Sano agrees.

Since she’s commandeered the kitchen, the quality of their meals has improved dramatically. Skillfully mended, worn clothes appear new again. His own unit slowly gets to know this mysterious slip that floats around the compound under watchful guard. They talk about her when she’s not around: Hijikata’s little serving boy.

_Can he really be a boy?_ they wonder. Sano lets it go. His men are smart. If they figure it out, so be it. _He’s so delicate, pale like the moon and soft like a flower._

Then, more sinisterly: _just what kind of service is it that the child provides our Vice-Commander?_

There he steps in and ends their conversation, running those men through drill after drill until they’re bleeding sweat and learn to keep their disgusting speculation to themselves.

Today, it appears, is laundry day. Chizuru scrubs hatoris in a bucket and hangs them to dry in fleeting sunshine. A smaller pile--bloodstained coats--lies soaking in the side yard. 

Sano’s troops run forms, and he catches her eye watching them perform. He smiles.

“Oi, Chizuru!” He waves.

She starts, but bows in his direction, wiping her brow. “Ohaiyo, Harada-san!” She waves back, smiles. 

Four large steps and he’s beside her. “Putting you to work today, too, huh?”

“Not at all, Harada-san,” she says, sincerity soaking into every word. “I’m just doing what I can do to be useful.” She wipes her brow again, gazes across the yard. “There is a lot of laundry today.”

“You’re right about that,” he allows, looking at the murky bucket of water behind her. “Do you need any help with the heavy lifting?” He gestures with his head. 

“Oh, no thank you, Harada-san. That’s very kind, but--”

“Hello, Harada-san.”

Sano chokes. Yamazaki stands stone-faced beside him in such a way that one wouldn’t know he hadn’t been present from the beginning. “Son o--” He stops himself. “Yamazaki-san, I think you’re going to be my death one day.”

Yamazaki allows himself a small smile. “Thank you, Harada-san. Vice-Commander Hijikata has assigned me to be of assistance to Yukimura-san today, so there is no need to trouble yourself.”  
  


Chizuru looks back and forth between them, torn between laughter and anxiety.

“Ah, that’s good then.” Sano bows. “I need to get back to my unit anyway. See ya later, Chizuru!” Waving again and with a nod to the other man, he strides away.

Does her gaze linger on the captain’s back? Yamazaki doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Twitter @Shoujothoughts!


	6. 1864, April (pt 2)

**1864, April (pt 2)**

Sannan’s stopped joining them for meals.

Hijikata’s been gruffer than usual, Kondou quieter. It’s gone without saying that each passing day decreases the chance that Sannan will properly wield a sword again. Every man is quite aware that--for a warrior--losing a sword arm can be likened to small death.

Sannan is careening. He’s grieving fully and precipitously, pushing away at every form of comfort offered, and Sano knows this--respects it, even.

But Heisuke must notice he’s been watching the door for a while now. “Chizuru brought dinner to Sannan-san,” he says, eyes firmly on his dishes. “She’s trying to get him to eat something.” Sano startles.

Sannan’s grief is nigh impregnable, and--while many things can be overcome by a woman’s gentle touch--Chizuru, doctor’s daughter or not, hasn’t been living amongst swordsmen long enough to empathize with Sannan’s overwhelming loss.

Almost as though she’s been summoned, Chizuru slides open the shoji. She enters on her knees. “Please excuse me,” she says.

“Chizuru-chan!” Shinpachi exclaims. “It’s about time! Now we can e--” Abruptly, he quiets. It doesn’t take much to see the pain on her face. Immediately, Sano’s mind is racing through every cruel thing Sannan could have said to her.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she adds, moving to her seat. Now Chizuru is sitting beside him, and the group has said “Thank you for the food,” and they’re all digging in more quietly than they have in a long while. Even Souji is silent. Sano can’t find his own voice. Eventually, Heisuke breaks.

“Chizuru, come on,” he cajoles. “Cheer up. I’ll bring his lunch to him. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s right,” Shinpachi adds. “Cheer up.”

The smile doesn’t meet the eyes still locked to her tray, but she tries, and Sano thinks that hurts more than anything. “Thank you very much.”

A movement in the back hall and the door opens. “Deputy commander!” Saito greets. The surprise in his voice must be reflected on all of their faces, but Sannan doesn’t say anything. Instead, he crosses to his usual seat.

“Thank you for the food,” he murmurs. He eats.

Chizuru looks at Sannan with so much concern. “Sannan-san…?”

He smirks, small and self-deprecating, but present none-the-less. “Food,” he says, “is apparently best enjoyed in the company of friends.”

She exhales the breath they’ve all been holding, and the fog clears.

“Yeah, of course it is,” Kondou adds, and Hijikata smiles for the first time in days.

Chizuru… Chizuru beams.

Gen-san and Heisuke are on dish duty tonight, and so when dinner ends uneventfully, Harada walks Chizuru toward her room.

“I don’t know exactly what you said to Sannan-san,” he says as they depart, “but whatever it was, it got through to him. So, thank you.”

“Of course,” she says. “But I didn’t do much, not really.” Gradually, she slows. She looks past the veranda, and Sano joins her, their gazes climbing toward burgeoning stars. When she continues, they’ve stalled, and her voice is very quiet. “In some ways, Sannan-san was right when he said I wanted to make a place for myself here…”

Sano’s stomach sinks. That bastard. He turns to her. “Chizuru…”

“But even so, I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.” 

The night is calm, windless and still. Even so, Sano imagines there’s something of motion about her.

“I did want to be useful, but I also wanted to be useful to Sannan-san--to be helpful to him.” She pauses. “All of you have done so much for me. If I can make a place here by helping others, that’s all I ask.”

Suddenly, Sano puts a large hand on her head; Chizuru yelps, cheeks burning.

“You have a place here whether you’re useful or not,” he says. “We appreciate everything you do, but working yourself ragged isn’t a prerequisite for belonging here.”

When she looks up from under his touch, she can’t help but think his eyes are very bright. They crescent when he smiles.

And it isn’t for the first time that she thinks... 

He is very beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Twitter @Shoujothoughts
> 
> Also, you may have noticed that some dialogue is taken directly from the source material. Not nearly all of it, of course, but if like Heisuke or Sannan or someone says something in canon at a specific moment and I'm not changing that moment, why would I change the lines for no reason, ya' know? Trying to keep this as close to the canon timeline of events as I can. <3


	7. 1864, May

**1864, May**

Sometimes it feels like drowning.

She wakes in the middle of the night and blinks against the darkness, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm to the melody of half-remembered dreams.

Her father is not a praying man, but Chizuru keeps to traditional ways. On nights such as these, with eyes shining, she whispers gently to the heavens. In the aftermath of tears, she pleads.

The fervor of her prayers is consuming. It is desperate, tenacious, and too reverent, perhaps, against a rancorous backdrop. She implores the deities with some faith of divine intervention, but in fear...

In fear, she jumps to horrible conclusions. She jumps, and she resents them all—herself included—for the weight dragging her down.

“No,” she whispers.

The moon is very bright.

Blame isn’t fair. It’s no one’s fault that the thoughts won’t quiet. It isn’t her fault she’s come to doubt things she knew, and it isn’t their fault for allowing her—for causing her—to wonder.

The men have tried to hide their unease, but she sees it—feels it. They think she doesn’t notice, but she considers everything. 

Glances cast are telling. There are certain things they aren’t to talk about, but gentle redirection can only hide so much of honesty.

Most of the captains—she knows—are deeply unsure of her father. Half of them think he is dead.

“No,” she says again. It is a wish? Is it denial? For herself? Her father? Them? 

When her heartbeat slows and her breathing quiets, Chizuru closes her eyes. She wonders, too. She asks herself, “why?”

Maybe her father has done something to warrant their suspicion, their disquiet; maybe her father is dead.

Sorrow catches in her throat.

“No.”

Yukimura Kodo is alive. 

Yukimura Kodo is ALIVE.

Her breathing shallows. Her chest constricts. More tears fall, bleed into the river of her hair, and Chizuru lets herself sink.

In the morning, she will surface. She will smile, but her eyes will be red. The captains will notice, but no one will say anything.

Hijikata will scowl into his breakfast plate. Souji will joke about murder with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Sanosuke will tell her stories about hunting ducks with Heisuke and catch her gaze too often. Shinpachi and Heisuke will fight. 

Saito will be watching her.

Her father will still be gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the angst. There had to be angst. Sincere thanks to everyone for the kudos and lovely reviews. <3 I wrote this at midnight because, apparently, time has no meaning. 
> 
> You can find me on Twitter @Shoujothoughts.


	8. 1864, June -- The Ikedaya, Aftermath

**1864, June -- The Ikedaya, Aftermath**

_Footsteps echo in the empty street. “A message!” her voice screams._

_She stands amidst a sea of blue hatoi, breathlessly bent double as Genzaburo scolds, “Yukimura-kun!”_

_Sano startles at that, and the words fly without volition. “What are you doing out here, woman!?”_

_“They-they’re at...The Ikedaya Inn!”_

The following night--or very early morning--sake slithers down Sano’s throat as he lounges on the stairs and gazes toward the stars. Shinpachi, sprawled out beside him, mumbles something about “sons of bitches” and raises his own jar to his lips, excess dribbling down his chin. 

“At least Heisuke and Souji are gonna be alright,” Sano says.

Shinpachi grunts, sitting up with a weary nod. “Yeah, but those bastards got us good. Victory or not, too many of our men were...

Sano thinks of Akazawa, in death appearing splendid. “I won’t disagree with you,” he mutters, taking another long swallow. Even one is too many for something like this. “We did what we could with the information we had. Next time, we won’t be divided.”

Shinpachi nods again. He sighs and slaps one hand against his thigh, the other still gripping the neck of his bottle. “It’s late,” he says, then yawns. “I’m going to bed.” Using Sano’s shoulder as leverage, he rights himself to standing.

“You sure you can get back to your room okay, old man?”

“Who you callin’ ‘old man,’ Sano?” Shinpachi grins and cuffs Sano about the head as the latter ducks away. They chuckle, and the sound petters out into the quiet of early light.

“Night, Shin.”

Shinpachi waves a lazy hand. “Night.”  
  


Alone, Sanosuke swirls the liquor in his hand. Bed would be the most reasonable thing, he thinks, to chase what’s left of the sleep he’s forsaken, but he feels the need to stay. He feels the need to wait, to watch the dawn bleed into day like a gansai wash. 

And so, he does. For the next hour, he sits in silence. Sunrise breaks, and the space around him feels like the world is catching its breath--for the first time since Heisuke lay unconscious against a broken shoji with his headband shattered, like _he_ can catch his breath. 

It’s time to go. 

Quietly, softly, he pours what’s left of his sake onto the ground and weighs the bottle in his hand. There is a weight to things, he thinks, and a measure of success beyond victories earned and lives cost. If it had been Heisuke laid out on the lawn behind the Ikedaya, would Sanosuke still feel so composed? Could he look at his friend as he had Akazawa and admire the glory in honorable death?

“When did very late become very early, Harada-san?”

Startled, Sano whips his head around. She stands on the engawa with sleeves tied back and linens in hand. 

“Jeeze.” He puts a hand on his chest and sighs theatrically. “Chizuru, you’re gonna give me a heart attack sneaking up like that. Has Yamazaki been teaching you stealth?”

She surprises him with a small smile and gentle, veiled reprimand. “You were very inside your head about something just now, Harada-san,” she says. “Didn’t you and Nagakura-san go out for drinks yesterday evening?”

“Ah, ya’ got me,” Sano says, standing with a stretch. He walks toward her and stops just shy of a broom’s length away. “Very late became very early, indeed. I guess we just got caught up in… everything.” 

Sano rubs his neck, and his gaze is sheepish but far away. Chizuru cocks her head just slightly as Sano blinks, refocusing on the girl in front of him. She looks decided.

“I am getting ready to prepare breakfast, Harada-san,” she says with something very near aplomb. She meets his eyes squarely, “Would you care to help me?”

Would he care...to help her with breakfast?

…well, would he?

“Yeah, of course,” he says quickly. The request is unexpected, but nothing of a burden. “Shinpachi just crawled off to bed about an hour or so ago, though, so I don’t expect we’ll be seeing him up any time soon.”

She nods. “Breakfast for eight, then,” she says, “and two dinning in their room. We’ve a lot to do before they awaken. Come on.”

Later, as he delivers a porridge to Heisuke (who moans about his defeat with enough gusto that Sano knows he will be fine), Sano realizes that Chizuru must have personal experience in managing her problems through utility. He can hear Souji’s teasing laugh echo down the hallway and imagines her blushing to her roots.

“Poor Chizuru,” Heisuke says, laying down again and replacing the compress on his head. Souji is still laughing, but now they hear her own muffled exclamations. “She didn’t sign up for all this--looking out for all of us, I mean--but I’ll be damned if she isn’t good at it.”

Thinking about their sunrise conversation as he returns Heisuke’s tray to the kitchen, Sano can’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your reviews and kudos. They are motivating!
> 
> I'm on Twitter @Shoujothoughts


	9. 1864, July -- The Kinmon Rebellion, Aftermath

**1864, July -- The Kinmon Rebellion, Aftermath**

_“How cruel, calling all of you that…”_

_“Well, this is how others treat us. Don’t you worry yourself.”_

_“But, it--”_

Chizuru is angry, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. 

By all accounts, the Shinsengumi’s reputation shouldn’t really be her business. She is little more than a carefully watched guest, after all. Somehow, however, these men have taken root in her heart like a maple tree in fertile soil, and she can’t stop thinking about the derision in that Aizu retainer’s tone. From midmorning to late evening, the troops marched from post to post, looking for orders and--to some extent--validation. What sort of leader, she wonders uncharitably, calls the Shinsengumi to defend but doesn’t make their orders known? What kind of retainer scoffs with derision at his comrades in arms? Calls them “wolves” as though they’re less than man?

Bureaucratic bullshit (Thank you, Hijikata-san, for the phrasing.) aside, at the end of an already trying day, she can’t begin to untangle all the things she feels. All she knows is that she’s angry. That’s enough to unpack.

She sets the laundry down with unnecessary force, adding underthings to an already mountainous pile of hatori, robes, and miscellaneous other linens. The men have taken to setting their laundry out each week for her collection, and so collect she does. With every additional article tossed atop the pile, the eyes of the man watching her grow more assessing, more concerned.

Not that she knows he’s watching, of course. Chizuru is far too absorbed in her own frustration to notice the eyes observing from the engawa to her right. Some of the tenth unit men had noticed her off behavior, and--as most men are--these soldiers were prone to gossip. Gossip doesn’t get far within the tenth unit without Sanosuke knowing about it, so here he is, watching to see if the rumors are true.

It’s the wrinkle between her eyes, he thinks, that really distinguishes what she’s feeling as anger. He’s seen Chizuru sad--over breakfast when she thinks no one can tell she has been crying--and he’s seen her afraid--when he launched his fist at Heisuke to avoid an assassination over dinner. Each time, her eyes have spoken volumes. Today, they say she’s… frustrated.

Having listened to Shinpachi espouse his displeasure over their recent treatment by fellow troops at the conflict days prior, Sanosuke can confidently say he’s well versed in outbursts of frustration. If this is a frustrated Chizuru, he thinks he can handle that.

He’s able to get worryingly close to Chizuru before she notices his presence. She startles lightly and dips her head in greeting. “Harada-san,” she says.

Her voice remains light and sweet, but the wrinkle between her brows isn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, Chizuru.” Sanosuke smiles down at her. “The laundry pile today is taller than you are.”

She blinks at that and turns to examine it with new eyes. Abruptly realizing the size of the pile before her, she visibly deflates. 

“I don’t know where the day has gone,” she says. “I’d planned to finish the laundry hours ago, but then…”

She thinks back to how she’d burnt breakfast, how she’d pulled stitch after stitch while mending. She’d had to steep new tea for the Vice Commander twice this afternoon because the pots grew too bitter, her mind tasked with other things…

“Harada-san,” she says again, and this time, her voice is different. Soft, but darker somehow. “After…” She stops, swallows, starts again. “I’ve seen enough of the Shinsengumi to know all the good you do…”

Sanosuke leans in closer, but Chizuru is looking at the ground, and her words begin to rush.

“You came under the order of Aizu, but when you arrived, they mocked you. They called you “wolves” as though you’re less than men! But I’ve seen you all work so hard to keep the peace here in Kyoto, and--!” She squeaks when Sanosuke pats her on the head. Her eyes fly open (When had she closed them?) and fists unclench. Unlike the first time he’d touched her, she understands the weight of that hand.

“Your heart is so big,” he says. His gaze is soft.

No, she thinks, her heart is pounding, but Sanosuke looks at her as little more than a child. 

“I had no idea this was bothering you so much.” He shakes his head, and his hand moves to her shoulder. “You have to understand. To a lot of people out there, we’re a bit of a menace. They see us fighting--see our very noticeable patrols--and think we’re the ones causing trouble in town. They don’t realize that it’s _because_ of those things that they don’t see ronin pulling a daily shakedown on street vendors. So, it’s kinda’ double-ended, if you know what I mean.”

“But they called you ‘wolves!’” Chizuru protests. Breathless or not, her indignation hasn’t abated. She meets his gaze squarely. “That was cruel.”

“We’re not formal samurai, so we’re uncivilized. We patrol in packs. Hence, ‘Wolves of Mibu.’” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I know it isn’t exactly appreciative, but it’s what they know. You can’t blame people for that. I mean, weren’t you scared when you realized you’d been taken in by the Shinsengumi?”

Chizuru exhales, but she crosses her arms. “Yes,” she admits regretfully. “I was.”

“Word-of-mouth is powerful. Our reputation precedes us. Those other guys thought they were better than us, yeah, but Aizu’s taking a chance on us because they’ve seen what we can do. We just gotta’ show the rest of them.”

“It just bothers me,” she says, “to see you all talked about like that.”

“That’s because you’re a good person. Good people don’t like to see other people spit on.” 

“Don’t you ever...feel angry about it?”

“Of course I do.” Sanosuke’s words ring with honesty. “I get fu--I get pissed every time. But I learned when I was younger that the best retort is rising to a challenge. I don’t recommend taking that lesson to quite the extreme I did, though.” She cocks her head, and he smiles.

“If you’re looking for someone to commiserate, you should talk to Shinpachi. He shares your outrage ten-fold. But,” he gestures to the mountain of clothes, “if you’re looking for someone to help you with all this, I think I can spare some of my time.”

Sanosuke has a winning smile. Sanosuke knows it, and Chizuru knows that he knows it.

“If you’re sure, Harada-san,” she concedes. Between the two of them, maybe they’ll get this laundry done in time to start on dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one kind of got away from me, to be honest. I had a good time with it. :) I hope you enjoy the chapter. Yes, Chizuru does a lot of laundry, but I mean... there is a LOT of laundry.
> 
> Also, I feel like I heard "work so hard to keep the peace here in Kyoto" in the dub (woot woot!) somewhere. Have you watched the dub? It's great. <3
> 
> Your comments and kudos are motivating! Thanks!
> 
> If you wanna hear me ramble in-between chapters, I'm on Twitter @Shoujothoughts.


	10. 1864, August

**1864, August**

“You don’t understand,” he says, gesturing emphatically. “She found the kid’s mother in ten seconds, flat--thirty seconds tops!”

Not long after Chizuru started wandering more freely around the compound, Shinpachi bet Sano 50 mon that Heisuke’s crush would fizzle out before the Gion Festival. “Sure,” Shinpachi had argued, “Chizuru-chan is cute and sweet, but Heisuke blushes over every maiko in the city, and Chizuru-chan’s kinda’ oblivious? I give it a few more weeks before he resigns himself to a position as her friend and moves on.”

Sanosuke hadn’t been so sure on either front; Heisuke blushed and stuttered in the face of any maiko, sure, but with Chizuru he seemed content to be himself--if a bit overeager. In spending time with Chizuru, Sano had come to learn that there were a lot of things going on inside the girl’s head that she didn’t always share. With these things in mind, July had come and gone. In its passing, the height of summer left Sanosuke that much richer.

As they shelter together against the heat of mid-day, Sanosuke and Shinpachi exchange knowing glances. Heisuke carries on. 

“I don’t know how she got him to stop screaming, but she did, and his mother was so grateful she insisted on buying Chizuru _dango_ from that vendor downtown, you know, with the copper pots in the window? But of course Chizuru said ‘no,’ because we all know Chizuru, so--”

Shinpachi elbows Sanosuke in the arm, and with a fish-eating grin he lays his next words on thick. 

“That’s pretty amazing, Heisuke. Chizuru-chan must be really good with kids.”

Heisuke takes the interruption in stride. “Yeah,” he says. “She’s pretty great. It’s not the first time they’ve taken to her either! In fact, last time we ran into Saito on patrol, she--”

“I bet she’d be an excellent wife someday, don’t you think, Sano?”

“Oh, absolutely, Shinpachi,” he agrees, “I mean, she takes care of all us guys here, and we all saw the way she nursed Heisuke”--he conveniently leaves Souji out of the narrative-- “after the incident at the Ikedaya…”

“Imagine her someday with a bunch of little Chizuru-chans running around…”

“I mean, yeah,” Heisuke squawks, face slowly blushing cherry. “She’s great, and, uh--m-motherhood would suit her, for sure…”

“Good thing she’s got our Heisuke here to dote on.”

With that nail in the coffin, Heisuke whines. “Shut up! I know what you guys are doing...” He lands a punch on Shinpachi’s arm, and Shinpachi takes the opportunity to try and pin the shorter man. As they wrestle, Sano slides aside, content to watch his buddies battle it out on the sitting room floor. 

The scuffle tapers out with Heisuke holding Shinpachi in a loose headlock and Shinpachi half-hearted flipping Heisuke over his head to land turtle-backed on the floor.

“Chizuru is just a friend,” Heisuke pants. “Don’t go saying anything to her to make her feel all weird.”

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Shinpachi bemoans, throwing one arm theatrically across his eyes and clutching at his heart. 

“We won’t,” Sano adds with a grin. “Just let the old men have their fun.”

Everything is quiet for a few moments before Heisuke, having regained his breath, breaks the silence. “You are, you know? I mean, not _old_ -old or anything, but, you know. Have you ever thought of it? Settling down, I mean.”

“Now there’s a question.” Shinpachi stretches his arms above his head. “No,” he adds. “Not really. I mean, I’m pretty content with my lot, honestly. I’m here for the Shinsengumi. Not to say I couldn’t have a wife--I mean, look at Kondou-san--but it isn’t really high on my priority list or anything.”

“What about you, Sano-san?” Heisuke asks. 

“This guy,” Shinpachi cuts in with a forceful gesture in Sanosuke’s direction, “could have a wife by tomorrow if he put his mind to it. I swear, the way women crowd around him’s enough to drive a man to drink.”

“You say you’re not interested, Shinpachi, but you complain about Sano-san’s luck with the ladies all the time.”

“Just because I’m not interested in settling down doesn’t mean I’m not interested in the ladies, kid. Didn’t anyone ever teach you about swords and sheaths?”

Heisuke’s blushing again before Sanosuke intervenes. “Okay, Shinpachi, enough of that or you’ll scare the kid.”

“I’m not a kid. You’re just ancient.” Heisuke, sitting now, reaches for a nearby cushion on the floor and launches it at Sanosuke’s head. Sanosuke catches it with a grin. 

“Did you say something? Speak up, young man. I can’t hear you.”

“Ah, these whipper-snappers nowadays...”

Against the backdrop of gratuitous laughter, Heisuke sighs and scrubs a hand across his eyes. “You absolute assholes,” he says with much put-upon affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now know a lot more about the currency of feudal Japan, if anyone is interested in the things I spend time researching for this fic, lol. (Also about the Boshin War because I learned NONE of this in school...)
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments and for the kudos! Seriously, SO motivating!
> 
> If you wanna scream about Hakuouki with me, I'm on Twitter @Shoujothoughts


	11. 1864, September

**1864, September pt 1**

“I was born today,” he says, his eyes locked on his task.

On the fourth and seventh days of every ten, Sanosuke helps Chizuru in the kitchen after dinner. On nights like these, with the changing of the seasons, sunset paints their surroundings in a gentle twilight wash. Chizuru’s dainty hands move speedily through dish drying motions as Sanosuke’s larger ones scrape at the bottom of a stubborn pot.

The world--their world, perhaps--is so soft like this, soft and quiet. Even as the words pass his lips, he wonders why he said them.

Chizuru glances up from her work with wide, surprised eyes. They meet his own across the table. “Really? Happy birthday, Harada-san! I had no idea…”   
  


Sanosuke’s ears burn, and he turns back to his scouring, scrubbing that much harder. “No,” he mumbles, “no need.” He clears his throat. “I don’t even know why I said it, really.”

Chizuru sets her last dish on the pile and shakes her head quite firmly. “Today’s your birthday, Harada-san! That’s a very important day. Have you heard anything from your family?”

“Ah--” he mutters, giving up on the pot. He dries his hands on his pants and looks at her somewhat awkwardly. “No, I don’t really--no.”

“Oh,” Chizuru says again, quieter this time. Sanosuke’s ears flush anew.

“Aw, come on now, none of that.” He leans back against the wall. “It’s nothing at all like you’ve imagined. I was a bit of a rough-edged child, is all. I left home at seventeen.”

“How old are you now, Harada-san?” Chizuru asks with a small smile as she begins to untie her sleeves.

“Twenty-four,” he says, “though I’ll ride the coat-tails of twenty-three until New Year, I suppose.”

“I wish I had known. I would have done something special for you.”

With a scoff, he surges forward and ruffles her hair again. She squeaks out a predicted little yelp at the contact, but he cannot know how much he loves and hates this act in equal measure. “You’re sweet, but there’s no need for that.” With the other hand, he rubs the back of his neck somewhat ruefully. “I don’t even know why I told you,” he says. “It isn’t important…”

“It is important, Harada-San,” she says, all earnesty. She looks up from underneath his fingers. “Truly. Someone should do something for you.”   
  


“That’s not really the way things work around here.” There’s laughter in his eyes as he lets her go. “It isn’t exactly in the Shinsengumi code. I don’t have a clue when anyone’s birthdays are, if it makes a difference.”

“Surely their families must send some sort of acknowledgment…”

“We’re neither children nor elders, Chizuru, and honestly, not every member of the outfit has a family to write home to, if you know what I mean.”

She blinks, looking a bit forlorn. “That’s sad, Harada-san, but if...” She shakes her head and puffs out her cheeks. “No,” she says. “It matters.”

This time Sanosuke can’t hold back his laugh. Grinning brightly, he gestures to the soaking pot. “This needs to stand overnight. Let me toss out the water, and we’ll call it done, yeah?”

“Of course, Harada-san.”

Almost immediately--as if waiting for his cue--Saito arrives. He casts a long shadow from the doorway. Chizuru has been given many freedoms, but Hijikata-san (and Saito-san, Sano secretly thinks) have insisted an honor guard stay firmly in place for things like bathing. Sano can’t say he doesn’t approve.

Saito gives Sano a brief nod, and with Chizuru’s small bow and gentle smile, they depart.

Later that night, after meeting Shinpachi on his way back from patrol, Sanosuke finds a small plate of red bean mochi waiting for him by his quarter’s door. He brings it close under the light of his lantern and sees that a note, written in precise, neat hand adds simply, “With prayers for long life and happiness.”

Saito, watching from beside the scarred ginkgo in the yard, can see Sanosuke's smile. He nods once, firmly, and slips away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, huh? Thanks for your kind kudos and reviews! I've been researching quite a bit for this fic, and now I know how birthdays were celebrated during the Edo period!
> 
> Does anyone wonder what's up with Saito? (I'm not saying anything...)
> 
> If you wanna scream about Hakuouki between updates, I'm on Twitter @Shoujothoughts!


	12. 1864, October (pt 1)

**1864, October pt 1**

Incidents at the Ikedaya and Kinmon Rebellion left the Shinsengumi on high alert. Interference from the unique group of… whoever they were… was unwelcome at best and an outright danger at worst. The larger man had seriously injured Heisuke, and Souji--laughing in pursuit of his revenge--would often speak to the bastardry of the second, but it was from personal experience with one Shiranui Kyo that Sanosuke knew the mysterious triad were not to be taken lightly.

On a similarly concerning note, Itou’s newfound presence around the compound also proved to be unwelcome at best, with the jury still out on whether or not they could trust the man.

“He’s a dandy, that guy, isn’t he?” Souji smirks, wiping the blood from his sword.

Harada cringes as he shrugs out of his hatori. “I don’t know if that’s the only word I’d use to describe him, but you’re not wrong,” he says.

There’s something sharp in Souji’s eyes, but his next words are deceptively light. “I caught him messing with Chizuru-chan behind the hall the other night.”

Sanosuke freezes like a startled rabbit and, in an equally casual tone replies, “Oh, really?”

Souji smiles, a feral thing. “Yeah.” His voice is lilting. “Supposedly, it was something or other about requesting refreshments for his room. Naturally, I got Heisuke to deliver them.” Sliding his sword back into its scabbard, he stands. “Poor little Chizuru-chan. Unarmed even if she could defend herself. I wonder why she doesn’t carry her sword…”

He clasps a hand on Sanosuke’s shoulder as he makes his way past him toward the hall proper. “Makes a pretty poor excuse for a man, don’t you think?”

On his way to the washhouse, Sanosuke breathes. He breathes deeply and intentionally, and on his way out, when he no longer feels in danger of ripping Itou’s head from his shoulders, he seeks out Heisuke in his room.

The younger man startles as Sanosuke slides open the door. Heisuke’s attention was fixed on an illustration of two warriors in battle regalia fighting what looked to be an Oni, but Harada draws it quickly. “What’s up, Sano-san?” he asks, putting his text away. 

“That night,” Sanosuke hears himself asking, “when Chizuru first came to the compound, you knew she wasn’t a man, didn’t you?”

Heisuke’s eyebrows wrinkle. “No,” he says. “I mean, I thought she was rather pretty,” he blushes, “but I didn’t think she was a girl. Not necessarily.” He shakes his head. “Do you think that’s offensive? I can’t imagine mistaking her for a boy now…”

“Heisuke,” Sanosuke interrupts. “Itou’s causing problems.”

Heisuke sits up straighter then. “What sort of problems?”

“I know he’s your friend, but we can’t leave him alone with Chizuru.”

Heisuke’s face pales two shades. “What… what did he do? Is Chizuru alright?” He scrambles to his feet before Sanosuke realizes what he’s done. He shakes his head.

“No, no--I mean, yes! Yes, Chizuru is fine. She’s fine for now.” He sinks wearily to the floor into agura position, and Heisuke follows. “She’s fine, Heisuke, but Itou’s already giving her too much attention.” He scrubs a hand across his face. “If he doesn’t know she’s a woman already, he’ll figure it out soon, and woman or not, he’s already gotten too close to her.”

“What do you mean, ‘too close to her,’ Sano-san?” Heisuke’s color hasn’t quite returned, but he seems reassured. “Of course, I’ll do what I can to help avoid a misunderstanding, but even if he knew, Itou isn’t the kind of guy to go after a girl like that. I don’t think he’d hurt her or anything.”

Sanosuke eyes him speculatively, and Heisuke doubles down. “I mean it, Sano-san! I know Itou can be a bit much--I wouldn’t call him my friend, by the way--but I don’t think Chizuru has anything really to worry about. I wouldn’t have suggested he join if I did.”

Sanosuke doesn’t know how to put into words his exchange with Souji, their unspoken understanding.

“I didn’t think you would,” he admits, “but we need to keep our guard up.”

“Of course,” Heisuke agrees easily. He looks at Sanosuke askew. “But, Sano-san? Are you feeling okay? This isn’t really like you, man.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m fine.” He stands and moves toward the door. “Just make sure you remember what I told you. Harmless or not, there’s no reason he needs to be close to her.”

  
 _Harmless, my ass,_ he thinks as he slides the screen behind him. With renewed purpose, he makes his way toward the pine where he knows Shinpachi is napping. He’ll pick up Saito on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice I decided not to break up September into multiple parts. The extra scene I had planned for September would really fit in better elsewhere, and October is a two- to three-part section already.
> 
> Also, I totally take credit for the word "bastardry" lol.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for the support! This chapter came out a lot faster than normal. Pretty soon I'll have to get into an anime re-watch to make sure my timeline for 1865 makes sense, but re-watching Hakuouki is never a bad thing. <3
> 
> I hope you all are staying well!


	13. 1864, October (pt 2)

**1864, October (pt 2)**

Shinpachi and he are laughing at the moon when they hear her. “---Stop it! Someone! Someone, help me!” Their heads snap toward the sound, and before Sano knows it, he’s sprinting full tilt down the nearest corridor. Shinpachi flies at his heels. That plea was her voice. That desperation, _her_ _voice._ And if that bastard Itou…

But the sound is coming from Sannan’s rooms, and as they meet up with the others (also running toward her screams), he hears with awful clarity, “--Sannan-san! Stop it!” and his blood runs cold.

After, he patrols the Yagi estate with eyes peeled and muscles jumping, but he thinks of her, lying on the floor, so fragile and small. Hijikata has taken responsibility for her, and for that he is glad, but he cannot wrench the sight of her unconscious body from his mind, nor forget the timber of Sannan’s own screams.

Sanosuke isn’t stupid, and he knows exactly how compromising of a position this is for all of them. He doesn’t know what morning will bring. He hopes this sudden chain of events won’t prove the catalyst for true disaster.

How could Sannan do this? Arm be damned, how could he take the risk? And why was Chizuru with him? He knows her well enough by now, he likes to think, to know she must be innocent in all this, but whether or not Hijikata will see it is another story entirely.

He wants to believe in the Vice Commander, that the mantle of fearsome demon hasn’t fully overtaken his once gentler sensibilities.

The moon is at its peak when a few drunken recruits wander by, returning from a night on the town. Sano watches them closely, but Sannan’s rooms are quiet, and the men don’t notice anything amiss as they stumble toward their own. He sighs and glances toward the stars. 

For hours, all is calm. As light crests the horizon, however softly, Sanosuke heads toward Hijikata’s quarters to report. They face each other on the narrow walkway, and Hijikata's eyes are hard.

“Hijikata-san, how fairs Sannan-san?” Sano asks, but Hijikata shakes his head. The older man stands tall, but something about him shivers as Hijiakta whispers, “We still don’t know.”

A muffled gasp filters through the shoji door, followed by a mumbled, “Where am I?”

Hijikata moves to open the door, and Sanosuke slips away. He will choose to trust this man, to trust the Vice Commander even in a time of grief. The last thing he hears is Hijikata’s quiet, “Would you mind explaining this situation?” and Chizuru’s ringing silence.

In the morning, he will find her, however subdued. The men will skip breakfast as they await news from Souji. Chizuru will make tea as they ponder Sannan’s fate, and Sanosuke will know that his trust was not misplaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thanks again for the lovely comments and kudos! <3
> 
> A lot of things happen to the Shinsengumi in October of 1864, so expect a part III to this section sometime in the near future.
> 
> At some point, there are a few formatting errors I'll need to go back and fix. They won't change anything narratively speaking, but they bother me, so I'll be taking care of that, too.
> 
> Stay safe!


	14. 1864, October (pt 3)

**1864, October (pt 3)**

Sanosuke has never seen her cry. Chizuru’s spirit is indomitable, something as hard and unwavering as it is gentle. When he stumbles across her sitting under the early evening stars, he has to take a breath. He blinks twice--isn’t sure what to think--because yes, that is Chizuru, but how? _Why?_ he thinks. Her shoulders quake with quiet desolation. 

“Chizuru--” he says before he means to. Something about her vulnerable position tugs his heart into his throat, pushes his voice past his lips. Chizuru turns with a gasp. A hand flies to her chest.

Tears shine, lantern light reflected in beautiful, terrible ways.

“H-harada-san!” she gasps again, this time frantically wiping at her eyes. Her face grows redder with each swipe of her over-long sleeve. “I-I was just--” she takes a deep breath and clears her throat-- “looking at the stars.”

Before Sano can do more than hesitate, she jumps to her feet and lowers herself into a proper if expedient bow. “I-I’ll be going first, then. Good night, Harada-san,” she adds, already turning to flee.

“Wait--” is the next thing that falls from Sano’s mouth. “Wait,” he says, and oh, his hand is on her arm. “Chizuru, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she says, face somehow redder than before. “Nothing, I’m fine.” She scrubs her sleeve across her eyes again. “I-I am just tired, and I--”

“Chizuru,” he says, his hands on her shoulders. The interruption brings her pause. His eyes are hard and serious, but somehow kind. “If this is what exhaustion looks like, we’ve been working you too hard.”

“Oh, no!” she immediately yelps, because of course he would think that. Of course she said that, even though she manages so little for them, because--

His hands slide toward her own, hold them so gently. For a moment, her thoughts simply freeze.

“No,” Sanosuke echoes with a nod, looking straight into her eyes. “Okay, then, Chizuru.” He tightens his grip. “Do you wanna tell me what’s really going on? Because I’ve never known you to get weepy when stressed.”

A little part of his brain wonders if he’d really know, all things considered. Regardless, he doesn’t let go, and Chizuru doesn’t pull away.

“My father,” she finally admits, and her voice is very soft. Her eyes focus only on their hands. “He’s the one who did this. Without him…” she swallows hard, and Sanosuke squeezes again. “Without him, Sannan-san, and all of you…”

“Hey,” Sanosuke insists, “no.” He waits until she meets his gaze. “I don’t know what exactly you’ve been told, but this was something the Shogunate asked of us. It wasn’t just your father.” He shakes his head firmly, cranes his neck downward to follow her erstwhile, watering eyes. “You’ve gotta understand, this isn’t just on him. Sannan knew what he was doing better than anybody, and those other guys…” He hesitates. “Most of them broke the code and were given a choice.”

“How is that a choice?” she hiccups, shoulders shaking again. “How is that--”

“No,” he admits, “I don’t suppose it seems like much of one, but Chizuru…” His voice makes the wounds on her heart positively ache. “Chizuru, you do know that none of this is any reflection on you, don’t you?” He wipes tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, and Chizuru’s whole body stills. “None of it,” he persists. “I hear the way you speak about it, ‘ _my_ father,’ as though what he does somehow rubs off on you. None of this has anything to do with you.”

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Chizuru's body shudders. So do her eyes. “You wouldn’t say that--” she whispers. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew.”

“Knew what?” he asks as she rips away. “What don’t I know, Chizuru?”

“I’ve always been like this,” she continues, as though he isn’t there. “I didn’t know, I still don’t know, and all this time, I thought--but how could he?” She falls to her knees, and Sano falls beside her. “How could he? How could he hurt the people who trusted him?”

No matter how much prodding or pleading Sano tries, Chizuru says nothing more that night. She cries, pressed up against his chest like a child, mute as he runs his fingers through her hair and whispers nonsensical, panicked words of comfort.

She cries herself to sleep like that, and that’s how Saito finds them hours later as the sun peaks over the horizon. Saito’s eyes are intent as he takes in the scene: Sanosuke holding Chizuru against him like a doll, back against the paneling, staring into space beyond the walls. “I’m not good when a woman cries,” Sano says as though it explains everything. Saito nods.

Saito cocks his head in silent offer, but Sanosuke shakes his own. “I’ve got her,” he says, rising with the girl against his chest. “I’ve got her,” he says, and his face is incredibly soft with some underscore of panic. 

“She’s been struggling,” Saito offers. “With this. With Kodo-san, and now with the Deputy Commander…” His own eyes lock on the girl in Sano’s arms. “The past week she has been taking tea with Yamazaki some evenings, and he shared with me. She hasn’t seemed like herself. It isn’t a difficult deduction to make.”

“I just found her at a vulnerable moment,” Sano muses, and Saito hums.

“What are we going to do about this, Saito?” he asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another chapter. I know we don't often see Chizuru truly break down in canon (though it absolutely happens), but I am hard-pressed to believe that a girl with such a big heart for helping others and such deep respect for her doctor of a father isn't rattled to the nth degree by what she's learned in the wake of Sannan's transformation. Also, knowing what she now knows about furies, she has to be more concerned than ever with her own healing abilities. What exactly has her father done, and why?
> 
> Anyway, I've read every one of your reviews, but things have been crazy and I haven't gotten a chance to reply just yet, though I plan to do so soon! Thanks for all the kindness and kudos! :)


	15. 1864, November

**1864, November**

In the end, they don’t do anything. Further integration of Itou’s forces into the Shinsengumi ranks continues to challenge, and Sannan’s change has  _ necessitated _ the move to Nishi Hongan-Ji. The troops as a collective are rowdier than ever---a group grown too large for its current outfit, members flitting between one faction-inspired pissing contest and another.

Maddening.

It’s all the unit captains can do to stay atop the mess. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sanosuke reflects that he hasn’t spoken with Chizuru---really seen her at all outside of meals---since their awkward encounter on the engawa.

He can’t say for certain if Chizuru is actively avoiding him---though he wouldn’t put it past her---but he’s been far too busy to seek her out, anyway.

  
Gods, he feels a headache coming on.

His nights are long, his days longer, and every extra bit of diplomacy he’s forced to endure (to be fair, he realizes that it’s a fraction of that expected of Hijikata-san or Kondo-san) feels increasingly like an awl being forced into his brain.

Sano is exhausted, and he’s not above taking it out on Itou’s more troublesome men. He assigns extra drills during their joint exercises, fields their dirty looks with aplomb, and finds himself all the angrier for it.

He’s been worked like this before, harder in fact.  _ This is truly nothing _ , he muses. But here, in the privacy of his chambers, he tries to be honest with himself. Even if he does feel pulled in one-too-many directions, he should be able to manage. Yet, he can’t keep things straight in his mind. He doesn’t understand why he feels so angry, why he’s been driven to distraction.

Shinpachi’s taken to looking at him funny. Saito now reminds him of his days to run a perimeter, and Heisuke sneaks him curious glances as they pass each other in the halls. Souji smirks as he reminds Sano that Chizuru, too, has been  _ very, very busy.  _

Sometimes he wants to wipe that smirk off Souji’s face. He doesn’t even know exactly why.

“Are you going to speak with her this evening?” Saito asks one night as they cross paths. His third unit’s headed out; Sano’s tenth is headed in.

“Speak with her?”

“You have been dancing around each other. It’s becoming a detriment to you and to the men.”

Sano’s face goes white, then red in quick succession. He feels another headache coming on. “I don’t know exactly what you’re suggesting,” he says. 

Saito raises an eyebrow. “The Vice Commander has asked me to check in. You would do well to confront the source of your discomfort.” Without waiting for a reply, he continues toward his troops now waiting past the gate.

Sano feels seen in ways he doesn’t fully understand, doesn’t like. He shakes his head, and follows his own weary troops without a single backward glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say in this end note except that 1865 is rapidly approaching. I'd better get on that re-watch quick if I want to make sure my outline lines up correctly! I know eventually I'll have to break off into some game content, but I'm not sure when I want to make the jump. <3


End file.
